So I Can Stand On Mountains
by Whiscash
Summary: Sans didn't think he'd care if they ever made it to the surface, but now they're here, Toriel reminds him that there are some things too important to give up on. (Post-pacifist ending Soriel fluff)


**So I Can Stand On Mountains**

 **by Whiscash**

 **pairing:** Sans x Toriel

 **notes:** So I came fashionably late to the Undertale party, but I ended up falling hard for these two dorks and, because it's me, ridiculous fluff happened. a little nervous as always posting my first fic in the fandom, but yeah, here is a thing!

Spoilers for the True Pacifist Ending if you haven't played/seen it, rated for a teeny tiny bit of innuendo but nothing too lewd. Self-beta'd so please feel free to let me know if you spot any mistakes, and as always if you have any thoughts in general I would love to hear them! Thanks for reading :D

Also, there are so many terrible jokes in this thing that I should probably be...pun-ished. *rimshot*

* * *

For someone who'd been speaking in puns since he was a baby bones, Sans didn't hear people actually _laugh_ at his jokes very often.

He was more used to hearing a lot of loud groans and/or various objects being thrown in his general direction. Sometimes he got Papyrus to make this weird strangled sound somewhere between amusement and frustration, which his brother would always strenuously deny was anything close to laughter for fear of encouraging him. Occasionally he got a few chuckles out of the crowd at MTT when he could be bothered, which was mildly satisfying, but Sans didn't really care if anyone else found him funny – as long as he made himself laugh, he was good. It didn't exactly keep him up at night (because nothing kept him up at night, or for that matter during the daytime).

That's what he'd always thought, anyway – right up until that day in the forest. He was supposed to be on patrol, or something, but that seemed pointless because nobody ever came through and there wasn't so much as a snowdog to check up on. So that huge wooden door had looked like a pretty good place to take a nap, and he also wasn't going to pass up such a perfect opportunity for knock-knock jokes, even if he was the only one around to appreciate them.

Man, did he ever turn out to be wrong about _that_.

If the soft but eager reply when he knocked came as a surprise, then the loud, braying, hysterical howls of laughter that greeted his first punchline totally threw him for a loop – but in the best possible way. Sans had _never_ made anyone laugh like that before – he might have suspected this mysterious woman was mocking him, if her laughter wasn't so contagious and if she hadn't immediately come back at him with another grade-A rib-tickler. They'd carried on swapping jokes day after day, and leaning against that door, laughing until his bones ached, Sans was pretty sure it was the most fun he'd had in years. Timelines, even.

Back then, he never really thought he'd get to meet Door Lady – as he called her in his head, and once accidentally out loud, but it made her laugh because "if I was actually a door, I could tell jokes by knocking on _myself_!" - in the flesh, so...yeah, maybe even _he'd_ had a split-second mini-freakout when he realised that all this time he'd been lying around telling _the queen_ exactly how he was failing to do his duty to her kingdom.

But any doubts he'd had went away as soon as she laughed – and it was even better in person, because now he got to see the way her eyes crinkled up, her nostrils flared and she clutched her belly, doubled over in hysterics from what Sans thought wasn't even his A material. If he didn't before, Sans knew then for sure that he wanted to keep making her laugh like that forever. It didn't matter that she was Toriel, Queen of the Underground, that she still had an effortlessly regal presence, her royal robes billowing gracefully around her as she walked – she was still super cool, and a huge dork, who actually _wanted_ to hang out with Sans (and Papyrus, for as long as he could stand to be around two pun enthusiasts when they got going).

Now it was cool because they could just hang out, like any regular good buds, and be...well, as close as they ever got to _normal_. Toriel never tired of telling him all her hundreds of different uses for snails, and though Sans had to question some of her taste in cuisine, she also made the best pies known to monsterkind ("Do not worry – for you, I will make it _sans_ snails!") so he couldn't really complain. Also, sometimes when they were sat there at her table, she'd just give him this smile – almost like she was grateful for him just for being there, helping her finish up the leftovers whenever she'd apparently baked too much again – and it made Sans feel warm inside, like he'd somehow gotten the fuzzy dice from Papyrus' new race car stuck in his ribcage.

Oh yeah – the _surface_ , that was something. Because now they were up here with all the noise, and the people, and the weather, and the _sun_ , which Papyrus still greeted loudly and enthusiastically every morning (someone had told him about a human tradition called the "sun salute", which he took very seriously even after Sans had told him it couldn't actually hear him). Everything they'd all been fighting for – after spending their lives trapped underground, suddenly they were free to go anywhere, do anything, _be_ anything they wanted to be.

The truth was, Sans hadn't really cared about all that in a long time – mainly because he'd stopped believing long ago that Asgore really was going to free them all some day, and anyway, he was pretty comfortable where he was. He and Papyrus were safe, he had friends, a job (just), a life – knowing how it could all go so wrong, why risk everything just for the possibility of something better? But now it _had_ happened, he had to admit it was pretty great just seeing everyone so happy. Papyrus didn't even mind about the dissolution of the Royal Guard any more, because "now I, the Great Papyrus, have an even more important purpose in life! As the official mascot of monsterkind, it is my duty to seek out all the cool humans out there and befriend them! And then – after seeing how great _I_ am – they won't want to kill or hurt or hide from us when we walk down the street anymore! You're welcome, Sans!"

Probably faring a little better in the human/monster relations department, Toriel was no longer a recluse and was finally living the dream she'd told him about through that door – she now spent her days teaching history to monster and human children alike. She was in her element (that one would've worked better if she taught chemistry) in the classroom – her eyes always lit up as she read from her books, gesturing excitedly as she recounted tales of monsters and humans past.

All the kids adored her – she never lost her patience with even the stupidest or most annoying ones, explaining things over and over again in her gentle voice until they got it. She was even happy to let the little ones climb all over her, wriggling onto her knee and tugging at her ears while she read to them. Kids weren't really Sans' thing – way too much _energy_ – but he could tell she'd never been happier, and she seemed to appreciate having someone to tell about her day whenever he stopped by after class.

"So then, I told them the one about the cross-eyed teacher," she was saying. "But nobody laughed! They always say things like..." She lowered her voice and rolled her eyes in a surprisingly accurate impression of a human teenager. "'No, Miss Toriel, just... _don't_ '."

Sans leaned back in the slightly-too-small student chair he was sprawled in, kicking his feet up on the desk. "True comedy genius is destined to be underappreciated in our time, Tori."

"It appears so," she said mournfully, before narrowing her eyes at him over the top of her reading glasses; her gaze was like a laser beam, zoning in on him in the middle of all those empty chairs. "Sans, we do not allow feet on the desk."

"Sure," he replied, staying put as he tilted his head in an attempt to look innocent, "but that's for students, right? Technically, not a student."

"Hmmm." Toriel pursed her lips, trying to look stern, but Sans could see her mouth starting to twitch as he winked at her. "I suppose, just this once...I will not tell anyone."

"In case they have to put me under a- _desk_?"

She finally cracked at that, clasping her hands together in delight as she let out a loud, braying honk of laughter. "Exactly! And it would certainly pain me to see such a fate befall my dear friend." After taking a moment to recover, she continued: "Anyway, how has the surface been treating you? I hope you are keeping well?"

"You know it." Sans stretched and yawned, relishing the _crack_ of his bones. "Got a pretty packed schedule – sleeping, napping, distracting Papyrus from trying to make dinner for the humans." (After everything, they really didn't need more "evil skeletons trying to poison your children with sinister spaghetti" headlines.) "Barely made it in time yesterday for my strictly scheduled doze."

Toriel giggled, but he had to admit, it did feel weird not getting up and heading to his post any more. Not that he'd ever taken his job seriously when he'd had one, but it was still more fun if he had something to slack off _from_. But there wasn't exactly much of a market for watching out for humans any more, since the surface was literally crawling with them.

"Well, should you ever find the space in your busy schedule, I hope you know that your service would always be most welcome here."

"Here – you mean, be a _teacher_?" Sans almost fell out of his chair as he let out a snort of disbelief – she had to be pulling his funny bone with that one. "Uhhh, Tori. You remember what happened last time, right?"

Long story short: turned out a lot of humans still thought a skeleton materialising out of nowhere was actually _scary_ , instead of a hilarious prank. It had taken Toriel hours to calm down a roomful of shrieking, sobbing kids, and even longer to pacify the parents who were already skeptical about leaving their children in the care of a monster. She didn't speak to Sans for two days afterwards.

"I remember," she said, nose wrinkling briefly in distaste. "But – that particular misjudgement aside – I am sure that you could be a wonderful teacher, if you wanted to be. And we could certainly use someone with your scientific expertise."

Sans didn't say anything, but his sockets must have widened at that because Toriel grinned triumphantly, arching a knowing eyebrow. "Do not look so surprised. I have seen your joke books."

"Heh..." She was _good_ ; Sans knew when he'd been beat, smirking down at the desk as he scratched the back of his skull. "Alright, I, uh, dabbled. But that was a while ago. And...not exactly kid's stuff, y'know?

Toriel smiled, resting her chin on her hand. "There is no need to be embarrassed, Sans. I think it is a beautiful thing, to learn. To be curious, to seek out knowledge for yourself and then to share that knowledge with others, so that we might all move towards a better understanding of our world, and each other...to me, there is nothing more worthwhile in life. And never before would I have dreamed that one day, I would be able to be part of it – I cannot express how much it fills me with joy, every day, to be able to bring monsters and humans together in discovering our common history. And in doing so, perhaps..." Her smile wavered for a second, and suddenly _she_ was the one who looked uncomfortable, two delicate pink spots blooming on her cheeks as she cleared her throat. "Well, I can only hope that I can help to prevent us from repeating it."

"Tori, believe me – if anyone's gonna teach monsters and humans how to love one another and hold hands and share Nice Creams instead of tearing each other's souls out, it's you," Sans told her, and her blush deepened but her smile grew wider. "And don't get me wrong, I appreciate the thought, but...it's not gonna be me. Seriously, think about it – me, looking after a bunch of kids? For a whole _day_?" He already felt like he needed a nap just thinking about it.

"Hmm..." Toriel paused to imagine it, a look of amusement followed by concern passing over her face before she acknowledged his point with a wry chuckle. "Well, then, perhaps the children may be able to teach _you_ something about work ethic? I am certain they would think you are, ah...'totally cool'." She beamed, visibly congratulating herself at being so down with the kids – she really was the biggest dork Sans had ever met, and somehow it was adorable.

"Too cool for school," Sans nodded, clicking his tongue as he pointed a finger-gun at her with a wink; she just shook her head at him fondly, and they fell into a comfortable silence as Toriel shuffled some papers around on her desk and Sans leaned further back in his chair, glancing out of the window. It was another beautiful day on the surface – birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and Papyrus' enormous face was grinning back at him in hedge form. It still made him smile.

"Garden's looking pretty cool, by the way."

"Oh, thank you. I cannot take credit – I would have liked to spend more time in the garden, but I am always so busy with the children." Toriel glanced up from her papers, hesitating for a second before adding: "But then Asgore offered to help, and well, he always was so good with the flowers."

Sans made a non-committal _hmm_ noise as he raised a brow bone – he couldn't help wondering if they were going to get to the elephant in the room. Goat in the room. _Other_ goat in the room. Whatever – point was, no one hadn't noticed that their former king was there outside the school almost every day, watering flowers, trimming hedges and generally looking more relaxed than Sans had ever seen him. Which was great – he liked Asgore. Everyone liked Asgore, which was probably why all _everyone_ could talk about was whether their king and queen were finally getting back together. (Alphys "shipped it like burning", apparently. Sans could probably have lived without knowing what that meant, but hey, he wasn't going to judge. He didn't do that any more.)

"So, are you guys...?"

Toriel sighed before he could finish the question, her hands fidgeting on her desk. "It is...complicated, as they say. I am glad that he seems to have found peace here, and very grateful for his help with the garden. And..." The edges of her mouth curled up into a wistful smile. "I suppose I have missed him, and I would very much like for us to be...friends again. But I do not think..." Her smile faded almost as suddenly as it had appeared, her expression hardening as she corrected herself: "No, I _know_ things can never be like they used to between us. Too much has happened, and I am afraid he will have to accept that."

Sans nodded. "Sure. That's understandable."

He wasn't sure what else he was supposed to say – normally he couldn't have cared less about other people's relationship drama, but he and Toriel were good buds, and what kind of good bud would he be if he didn't want his good bud to be happy? Asgore had made her happy once, and if they could work it out – that was awesome, and he was happy for them. Definitely no reason that should bother Sans at all.

She wasn't really looking too happy now, though, with her shoulders tense and mouth pressed into a tight, pensive line as she busied herself with her work again, and that silence was starting to feel a little less comfortable and approaching the ballpark of awkward as it lingered between them. Looked like he might have to break out the big guns.

"Hey, Tori."

Toriel glanced up from her work. "Yes?"

Sans rapped his knuckles twice on the desk. "Knock knock."

She smiled, if not quite as eagerly as usual, in anticipation. "Who is there?"

"William."

"William who?"

"Willia-maybe come to Grillby's with me tonight?"

Even when she laughed, he was half expecting her to decline the offer, but her face lit up like he'd asked her to the fanciest place in town. "Oh, Grillby's? I must admit, I _have_ always been curious about the place, as you speak of it so often."

"Best burgers in Snowdin...or, uh, here, I guess," Sans nodded. "I would have asked you sooner but, y'know, you were busy not ever telling me who you were."

She smiled sheepishly (goatishly?). "I hope you understand now why I could not tell you back then."

"Don't sweat it. You didn't..." he paused for a beat, "get my goat."

Toriel's braying whoops of laughter mixed with Sans' deep chuckles, a strange symphony echoing through the empty corridors as they made their way outside. She stopped just as they reached the school gates.

"I am afraid my geography is still, ah, limited," she admitted, shuffling her feet. "I am still learning my way around the town – so I trust, as a regular, you will lead the way?"

"Sure – it's right around..." Sans trailed off as she held out a hand, which he blinked at for a second until he realised she was waiting for him to take it. Huh. Okay – that was new, but he could handle it (heh).

He took his hand out of his pocket and placed it in hers, which felt really...big, in comparison, but in a lovely, warm, soft, comforting way. Her fluffy white fur almost reminded him of that dog that had somehow followed them all the way to the surface, and he still sometimes found sleeping sprawled over him when he woke up from a nap. Except he'd never felt a tingle of electricity run down his spine from that, like he did when Toriel's hand closed around his with a reassuring squeeze and he grinned up at her.

"C'mon – I know a shortcut."

* * *

A lot of things had changed since they moved to the surface, including Sans' shortcut calibrations, but he was grateful that Grillby's was just the same as ever. Same menu, same sticky floor, same old regulars who hollered/barked/groaned their usual greetings as Sans walked in and lifted a lazy hand in response. A few tables away, Doggo's head spun around, and he gasped when Toriel walked past.

"Your Majesty!"

"Her Majesty?!" The dog next to him immediately snapped to attention, his ears pricking up as he turned to look.

" _Your Majesty!_ "

Toriel giggled nervously as the whole pack crowded around her, their tails all wagging furiously as they gazed adoringly up at her, probably hoping for a biscuit or to be petted or something. "Ah, hello! But, please, you do not have to call me that any more. I am here simply as one of your fellow patrons."

Sans just smirked as he stood back, giving them all a moment to calm down before he led her to the relative safety of the bar, where Grillby was busy as usual polishing glasses. He glanced up as they both pulled up a seat.

"Toriel, meet Grillby – proprietor of this fine establishment." Sans couldn't help feeling a little smug as Grillby's glasses lifted, although he couldn't quite tell if he was 'oh my god that's the queen' or 'oh my god Sans actually brought a _lady'_ levels of impressed. "Grillbz, Tori."

Grillby nodded and crackled something about it being his pleasure; Toriel blinked, her brow briefly creasing in confusion before she simply smiled and nodded politely in return.

When he turned away again, she leaned in to whisper to Sans: "Can you understand him?"

Sans shrugged. "Not word-for-word, but I'm his best customer. We kind of have a rapport."

A rapport that meant Grillby somehow managed to flash Sans a knowing look as he glanced between him and Toriel, despite not technically having a face. Sans ignored it and ordered them both burgers.

"Very well, I will trust your judgement." Toriel turned her head to look around the room, taking in her surroundings with interest as though she were in a museum. Even Sans spotted a couple of unfamiliar faces – it seemed like business was really booming since they'd moved to the surface, with monsters from all over and even the occasional human. Those didn't usually stick around long, though – it was almost like they weren't accustomed to sharing their drinking space with a giant armour-clad dog losing the 33rd round of poker against itself.

"It has been a long time," she said, "since I have gotten out anywhere, or eaten anything I did not cook myself. But this is such a charming little place! So full of...character."

Sans grinned, feeling a pang of relief she was enjoying herself – he knew she was cool, but Papyrus' dating book, for example, would probably have advised against taking the queen anywhere with _character_. Not that that applied anyway, since this wasn't a date, obviously.

"Plenty of time to make up for it. Just wait til you try the food."

Grillby expertly slid two burgers across the counter as if on cue (and Sans wouldn't have put it past the guy, he was cool like that). He reached for the ketchup and took a swig as Toriel nibbled daintily at her burger, and chuckled at the astonished look on her face.

"Good, right?"

"Mmm, that's _wonderful_ ," she sighed, closing her eyes in bliss as her tongue darted out to lick her lips. Her fangs glinted in the dimly-lit surroundings, and for a second it looked a little predatory. (Also maybe more than a little inappropriately hot, but Sans wasn't about to jump on _that_ particular train of thought anytime soon). "I must confess, it has been far too long since I had any _meat_."

Before he could help it, Sans let out a loud _pffffft_ of laughter, barely avoiding spitting ketchup everywhere as Toriel's eyes flew open, realising what she'd said. She huffed, but was starting to laugh too as she gave him a playful shove. "Oh, _shush_. You know what I meant!"

"Hey, you're the one who said it, Tori, not me!" He raised both arms in mock-surrender. "I didn't even...wasn't even gonna _touch_ that one."

Toriel groaned, burying her face in her hands to hide her blush, but pretty soon they'd both dissolved into giggles, leaning against the bar and each other to keep from falling off their stools. And they hadn't even had a _drink_ yet.

They eventually managed to recover long enough for Sans to take a bite of his own burger, while Toriel paused to look intently at hers for a moment as though it contained the secrets of the universe.

"Are these your favourite?" she asked. "I could always try making them for you sometime, if you would like."

"Mmmph?" Sans paused mid-chew, unexpectedly touched by the offer, though he swallowed and shrugged like it was no big deal. "You, uh, don't have to do that. I mean, thanks, but I can get these from Grillbz any time. Your butterscotch cinnamon pie, on the other hand...that's in a league of its own. Like, a whole 'nother _dimension_."

Toriel beamed, her cheeks colouring a little from the compliment; there were still a few stray crumbs clinging to the fur around her lips, and Sans had to fight the urge to reach up and brush them away. "I think it might be nice to make something different every once in a while. I would not want my skills to get... _crusty_."

Sans let out a "heh" of approval and held out his hand for a fistbump. "Tori, you're on a _roll_ tonight."

She grinned proudly as they bumped fists, and then was quiet for a moment. "I was just thinking...Did you ever bring Frisk here?"

"Once, yeah." Sans smiled to himself as he remembered the look on the kid's face as they watched him drink a whole bottle of ketchup – they hadn't even blinked (or maybe they never stopped blinking? He'd never quite figured that one out). He could respect a good poker face, even if it meant he had to work a little harder to get it to crack. "Kid has pretty good taste."

"Ah, excellent. In that case – perhaps you would all come over for dinner sometime? You, Frisk, Papyrus...if he would like it, of course."

"Are you kidding? He wouldn't miss it for the world."

Toriel's face brightened at that, already clasping her hands together in anticipation. "I could make anything you all wanted – burgers, pies, spaghetti..." She trailed off, her next question more hesitant. "Do you two...hear from Frisk often?"

"Sometimes. Pap calls them pretty often." Usually to relay such important information as the really cool bird he'd seen that morning. "They're doing well, I think. I guess it's good for them to be back with..."

 _Their own kind_ , he'd been about to say, but the words hung in the air unfinished – he wasn't even so sure of that any more. The whole reason they were here now was because Frisk was different – despite everything, and everyone who'd tried to kill them back in the Underground, they hadn't seen Monsters and Humans, enemies locked in an eternal struggle for power, but just...people. Friends.

And, as hard as it was for Sans to believe sometimes, it looked like they might actually have _done_ it. Of course there was still fear and mistrust – one kid, however determined, couldn't undo centuries of rivalry and bloodshed. But still, no one had killed anyone else since they'd reached the surface, there was a human hanging in there over in the corner, happily petting Lesser Dog, and this was their life now. And he could tell from the understanding in Toriel's eyes that she felt the same.

"Yes, I am glad that they are well. They have invited me to visit, but I do not wish to interfere too much in their..." Toriel paused, biting her lip, "true family. But I truly am happy for them, and so relieved that they made it back here. I never imagined it would be possible." She shook her head with a soft, amazed little laugh. "It still seems only yesterday that I found them in the Ruins. I could never have dreamed that they would be the one to change the fate of all of us – truly, I _never_ thought I would live to see our people reach the surface again. And there were times...many times, when I was not sure that I wanted to."

"Heh." Sans knew that feeling pretty well. "You and me both, Tori."

They were silent for a few moments – well, save for the sounds of Grillby busily mixing drinks, Lesser Dog's delirious pants as its head approached the ceiling and that one bunny in the corner crying about hot humans.

"Sans?" Her voice was soft, but the sincerity cut through all the hubbub going on around them.

"Yeah, Tori?"

Slowly, carefully, she reached out along the bar and covered his bony hand with her larger, softer, fluffier one. "Thank you."

Sans blinked, finding himself at a rare loss for words as her eyes gazed meaningfully into his sockets – there was no point in saying _for what_? or even _it was nothing_. So he just smiled back and winked. "Don't mention it."

"I _should_ mention it. Were it not for you, we would never have made it to the surface – not like this. Back ho – in the Underground, I dreaded when the day would come, when Asgore..." She broke off and away from his eyes, darkness rolling over her face like a storm cloud as she frowned down at her empty plate. "I could not bear the thought of another war, of seeing our people slaughtered – I would sooner have locked myself away in the ruins for eternity than be a part of it. I know you dislike making promises, and to protect a human – to defy Asgore's orders – was perhaps the biggest promise I could ask of anyone. But I saw Frisk and I – I couldn't..." Sans could feel her hand starting to tremble on top of his as she took in a shaky breath, see the beginnings of tears glistening on her lashes as she blinked back the memory. "They were just a lost, confused _child_. I could see from the beginning that they did not want to hurt anyone, but I knew others would not understand – they would see only another human, the enemy. And – when I inevitably failed to protect them – I just had to know that there would be someone else out there, watching over them when I could not."

Her voice that day had been so subdued, so serious that he immediately knew something was up. And yeah, of course he wasn't expecting her to ask that, but – somehow, despite her being just a disembodied voice behind a door, when he still didn't really know anything about her besides her impeccable sense of humour, he trusted her. He wanted to be able to keep that promise.

"Tori, hey." Sans twisted his hand around to squeeze hers in what he hoped was a comforting manner, linking their fingers together; white on white, her soft fur against his cold bone. Couldn't have been more different, but against the bar, they almost seemed to blend into one. "You know you made the right call. Frisk's a good kid. A good friend."

Back then, Sans trusted humans about as much as the next monster, and the next monster was usually ready to rip them a new soul. But he couldn't help liking the kid right from that first meeting, when they'd played along with Papyrus' puzzles and he'd seen his brother's face light up whenever he talked about his _cool new friend_. But even then, he could never fully let his guard down – it was always in the back of his mind that it could all be an act. He knew what humans were capable of, so what if this one was just smarter, better at playing them all until they made it to Asgore, to the barrier, and then...

Welp – none of that mattered now, anyway, so he might as well try to lighten the mood. "Did I ever tell you about the time I got thirty hotdogs on their head?"

" _Thirty_?!" Toriel's eyes widened in disbelief, her expression flickering between amused, disapproving and concerned. "How – why on earth...?"

Sans shrugged. "Beats me, but they kept asking for 'em. What was I gonna do – deny the poor kid their right to delicious head-dogs?"

"What a...curious child." Toriel smiled again, shaking her head fondly with a soft chuckle. After a moment, she continued, thoughtfully: "You know, I truly thought that I could protect them. If I could only keep them hidden away in the Ruins, with me, then they would be safe from harm forever. I would do my best to give them everything...the best life they could have hoped for, trapped down there with the rest of us. I thought I could save them from...from meeting the same fate as the others. But I see now that that was wrong – however pure my intentions were, their destiny is their own. If I had held them back, they would only have been unhappy, and we would never have made it here. And yet, sometimes, I still miss..." Her smile wavered, fading into something more bittersweet. "It was foolish of me, I know, to become attached – and selfish, to presume that they could have been happy with me. I knew from the beginning that Frisk already had a home, a – a family on the surface, and I had known them only a short while. And yet, there were times when I felt like..." She trailed off, the sentence hanging in the air unfinished as she gazed off into the distance, frowning as though she was seeing something – or someone – there that Sans couldn't. Then suddenly she seemed to come to, shaking her head with a sharp, self-deprecating little laugh. "But it does not matter now, whatever I thought I felt. I am just being a silly old lady again."

The way she cast her eyes down to the bar, as if struggling to conceal all those years of loss and grief, anger and solitude and heartache, made something in Sans' chest ache. He couldn't blame her for missing Frisk – the kid really did leave quite an impression – and even the life they'd left behind. The Underground might have been their prison, but it was also _home_ , the only one most of them had ever known. For all those years, when everyone thought their queen had abandoned them, she'd really been fighting her own battles – for her people, but also for the humans. Even after everything she'd lost, everything the humans had taken from her, she still believed there was another way. She'd loved a human once, and – unlike Asgore – she'd never stopped loving, never stopped caring, never stopped fighting in her own way. And Sans...maybe he couldn't always understand _why_ , after everything he knew, everything he'd seen, but he sure as hell admired her for it. Toriel was probably the strongest person he knew, and he wondered, sometimes, if Frisk had any idea just how lucky they really were.

"You're not silly," he said, and she finally looked up, her eyes wide and curious at his uncharacteristic seriousness. "Not about this, anyway. Tori, you _care_ – about Frisk, about the ones that came before them, about all of us. We needed that back down there, and we need it even more up here – monsters, humans, everyone. I mean," it was his turn for a self-deprecating grin, shrugging his free shoulder, "someone's gotta, right?"

It wasn't that Sans _didn't_ care – of course he did. He cared about Papyrus, about their friends in Snowdin, about Toriel even back when she'd just been his Door Lady. But he also knew what it was like to go to sleep not knowing if your friends _would_ still be your friends when you woke up, or if all the progress you'd made would be lost, or if anything you did was ever going to make any difference at all when some joker could decide on a whim to reset it all and you were never any closer to figuring out _why_...and yeah, some days, that made it harder to care. Made it a lot more tempting, when he thought how much easier life could be, how much time and effort and frustration he could save, to give up and just...stop caring.

He doubted Toriel knew what that was like – and he hoped she didn't ever have to – but maybe that didn't matter, as long as she was here. They were still here, and her hand still tightened around his on the bar top as she smiled, grateful and sympathetic yet knowing, and it still somehow _felt_ like she did, she understood everything.

"You do too, Sans. I know it – otherwise, you would never have kept that promise. And you would not be here with me tonight."

And damn if looking back at her, Sans couldn't feel the corners of his mouth tugging into a wide, stupid, genuine smile. Because she'd got him again – he'd never actually managed it. For all the times he'd tried, failed, given up over the years, there were some things he'd never be able to not care about, things he'd relive as many times as he he had to. Things like the indecipherable splutters of rage Papyrus made when he dropped a killer pun, or the smell when Grillby served up the first batch of cheese fries, or the way Toriel's smile slowly spread across her face, bright and hopeful and beautiful, until they were both sat there just grinning at each other like idiots.

"Hmm, yeah, maybe," he said casually, throwing in a wink as he added: "Just do me a solid and don't tell anyone, okay? I got a reliably poor reputation to maintain here."

Toriel giggled, and slipped her hand out of his to press a finger to her lips. "Your secret is safe with me – I will surely make no _bones_ about it."

Suddenly, Grillby gave a crackling cough, making them both jump as Sans noticed the bar was starting to look pretty empty. When Sans shot him his trademark sorry-not-sorry grin, he narrowed his glasses pointedly in that look that roughly translated as "it's almost closing time so unless you're planning on sticking around to help me clear up, better get that bony butt moving". (Again: rapport)

Toriel seemed to catch on too because she stood up, smiling apologetically at Grillby. "Oh, I am sorry. I do hope we have not been holding you up?"

"Trust me, this is nothing. Grillbz sees _way_ worse most nights. Right, bud?" Grillby just kept tapping his foot impatiently when Sans winked at him, but he was smiling, Sans was pretty sure. On the inside, anyway. "But, yeah, we should probably split. Grillbz, you know what to do." As they left, he turned to call back over his shoulder: "Same time tomorrow, yeah?"

Grillby mumbled something under his breath that Sans didn't catch – probably something about paying his tab – but he didn't care because soon they were outside in the quiet of the night, with the cool air on his skull and the moon bright in the sky. Toriel paused to admire the view, the moonlight illuminating her profile and catching her eyes as she looked up to the sky with a soft, contented smile.

"It is beautiful, is it not?" she murmured, almost to herself. "How lucky we are, to have a different view every night. I never imagined that I would see such a thing."

"Yeah, it is," Sans agreed, watching the stars all twinkling like echo flowers. Except these ones didn't talk back, and for once he was kind of grateful for the privacy, the silence, just being there in the moment.

"Well, anyway..." She let out a contented sigh, her smile almost reluctant when she glanced back and caught his eye. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, but I suppose I really must be getting back. It is getting late, and I still have tomorrow's lesson to plan."

"Yeah, same here. Pap's bedtime story isn't gonna read itself."

Toriel smiled and nodded, and then they were just kind of...standing there, like they were both waiting for the other one to make a move. They exchanged awkward grins as Sans stuck his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat, not really sure what he was supposed to do now.

"So, uh, g–"

"You know, it has been a long time," Toriel interrupted suddenly, "since I have been on a...a date? But, I believe that, traditionally, this would be the time for a goodnight kiss."

Sans' jaw dropped, and she immediately burst into peals of laughter.

"I – I am only _joking_ , of course!" she cried, her whoops of laughter just a little bit too shrill and going on for a little too long to sound convincing. "Because, of course, this is not – I mean, neither of us ever said that this was a date! Ah...oh my, ahem, sorry." Her laughter slowly petered out, leaving her awkwardly scratching behind her ear as her white cheeks rapidly turned scarlet. "Of course, I did not actually expect you to kiss me. Well, that is, only if...perhaps, erm, unless you...wanted to...?"

" _What_ – no, – I mean, _yeah_ – I mean, uhhh..." Whatever cool Sans had left had just officially flown out the window as he stuttered hopelessly, struggling to form words more coherent than _seriously_ _oh my god yes please now_ because he'd kind of been thinking – or rather trying not to think – about kissing her pretty much all night, but he'd never thought that might actually be on the _menu_ – heh – and he should probably be saying something right about now. "I mean. Sure, I'd be willing to give it a shot?" He just about managed a shrug, attempting to play it cool even as he could feel his own cheeks heating up. "I mean, if it's the _tradition_."

Toriel's giggle still had a slightly hysterical edge to it, but her face flooded with relief as she played along, dipping into a curtsy. "Ah, yes, of course. I suppose we must honour the tradition, must we not?"

Not that Sans had actually got around to figuring out the logistics of kissing her, what with her being a couple heads taller than him and him lacking a pretty important part of the anatomy for the whole kissing thing. Well, he probably had a old pair of joke wax lips lying around somewhere at home, but that wasn't exactly going to –

" _Whoa_ -" He was startled out of his reverie by Toriel's hands around his ribcage, slipping under his arms and effortlessly lifting him off the ground and into the air so that they were face to face. He grinned awkwardly, suddenly feeling very exposed. "Uh, hey there."

"Hello," she replied with a smile, her large, crimson eyes sparkling with joy and a hint of mischief. "I, ah, hope you do not mind this? I just thought it would be nice if we could..." she paused for the punchline, "see eye to eye."

"No, this is good...this is _great_ with me." She was so _strong_ , he could feel, just holding him up like it was nothing, and Sans didn't have any meat on his bones, but that still had no right to be as attractive as it was. "Just promise me you won't get carried away."

She snorted with laughter, and Sans could feel the vibrations right through his bones, a warm tingling all the way up his arms and along his spine, like nothing he'd ever felt before.

"C-careful!" she protested, still giggling weakly, but her hands tightened around him, steady and secure. "Do not make me laugh too much now, or I may drop you."

"You won't," Sans said with a wink.

"I could never," Toriel agreed, with such sudden fierce passion and sincerity that he finally had to close the gap between them, silencing her as he gently cupped her cheeks, stroking his fingers through her fur, and...

...right, that whole no-lips deal. Sans leaned in instead, and he felt her intake of breath as he pressed his mouth to hers and very gently nipped at her bottom lip, eliciting a surprised – but not entirely displeased – squeak in response.

Before he could figure out whether that was a good response or not, Toriel moved her head, and then her soft, warm lips were on his skull, planting a delicate kiss somewhere between his cranium and his eye sockets, and _wow._ Sans was glad she had such a firm grip, because otherwise he was pretty sure he might just have melted. Which would have kind of put a dampener on things, and before he knew it, she bent down gracefully and dropped him carefully back on solid ground.

"As, ah, _enjoyable_ as that was," she said, using her prim, teacher-ly voice, but her cheeks were pink with pleasure as the moonlight danced in her eyes, "I rather think it would be improper to continue now, would it not? Until next time..."

"Uh," Sans said eloquently, his head still spinning from _next time_ and trying to remember how not to sound like a total bonehead, even if he was one. "Sure, yeah. Next time. Good." Luckily, the perfect parting shot came to him as he regained enough composure to point and wink at her one last time. "So, guess I'll _ketchup_ with you later?"

Toriel chuckled, maybe not quite as loudly as usual, but full of warmth and affection. "Good night, Sans."

"'Night, Tori. Take care of yourself."

He watched her go for a moment, taking long, purposeful strides back in the direction of her house near the school, before turning back to take his shortcut. Papyrus would definitely be suspicious when he got back in such a good mood, but nothing was going to wipe the grin from his face as he headed home, bones still tingling. Maybe, next time, he'd even wear the wax lips, just to see Toriel's reaction.

Sans had to admit, it was starting to feel pretty good to care again.


End file.
